


All sleep well

by andeemae



Series: Our dreams assured [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fox is doing better though, Or Chairman Cho being his normal delightful self, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andeemae/pseuds/andeemae
Summary: His brothers deserve to decide someone is worth more than all the things they fear.They all deserve more than stolen moments.That’s all they have for now though, so he hopes they make the most of them.
Relationships: Riyo Chuchi/CC-1010 | Fox
Series: Our dreams assured [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977586
Comments: 21
Kudos: 87





	All sleep well

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Wars, I only play with the characters.

Fox blinks away a few alerts-a bacta tank shortage in the lower levels, a GAR update about the ongoing battles on Ryloth, and something about laced spice being circulated- and waits as the doors of the service turbo open.

The hall is dark, only dim white light shines up from golden sconces on the walls, casting awkward shadows on the ceiling and leaving the blood red rug looking even darker and unwelcoming than it does in the daylight. 

It’s a delicate operation, or it could be, if anyone ever bothers to check any of the clones’ whereabouts. Multiple brothers will be facing decommissioning if their shell game ever comes to light.

“Just listen,” Thorn had told him, nearly a Coruscanti month ago, when he’d devised his plan. “You want to spend some nights with your girl, right?”

Fox rolled his eyes. He hated Thorn calling her that, but the more he protested the more the term stuck.

“You do, we all know it. And you’re less of batha’s backside when you’ve had a little recreational time, most of the Guard would appreciate you getting your deecee polished regularly.”

“You’re vulgar.”

Thorn waved the criticism off. “Eh.”

He’d leaned against Fox’s desk and grinned. 

“Now sit down and brace yourself, I’m about to dazzle you with my genetically perfected planning skills.”

Fox did brace himself, mostly for concentrated bantha shit.

“It will appear suspicious if you assign yourself to Senator Chuchi every night, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Of course it will. Which is where my plan comes in.”

Thorn’s plan was simple.

During the days, the schedules would remain as they’d be set, troopers alternating through to keep from burning men out with the less pleasant senators. Commanders would be utilized only if needed, freeing them up to monitor threats and do their regular administrative duties. Nights, however, would be altered.

Thorn, Thire, Stone, and Fox would appear to take turns during the week standing guard for Riyo.

“How does that help me spend more time with her?” 

“Shut up and I will explain.”

Each commander would take over for the day guard, then, after a few hours, Fox would come, trade buckets with them, and take their place. It would give an excuse for a commander to be there, a soft duty to keep them in the rotation and give them time to catch up on administrative activities.

“If anyone checks the trackers in the buckets, the Senator’s guard will appear still to be at their post, and ‘Commander Fox’ will appear in the barracks, while ‘little Fox’ will be receiving the tender ministrations he so greatly needs.”

Fox had hesitated.

“That’s a lot of risks…”

If anyone found out the entire upper command of the Coruscant Guard would be shipped out to Kamino as defective products for trying to have some semblance of civilian normalcy in their abbreviated lives. He couldn’t risk all their lives, not even for extra moments with Riyo.

“We understand the risks,” Thire told him. “We deserve whatever little bit of happiness we can get, and we’re willing to do this so at least one of us gets that.”

“It’s not foolproof, but it’s sound,” Stone added. “Some of the boys on patrol have been swapping buckets for a while now, when the orders come down to switch their level or area. So they can stay near citizens they’ve gotten attached to.”

Fox had snorted at that. The entire reasoning behind rotating the patrols was to keep the men from getting too friendly with the locals, making them lenient with punishments and control. Clearly, it was a roaring success.

“None of them have been caught yet.”

So, despite his misgivings, Fox had agreed to the scheme.

It’s nerve wracking, each night he trades spots and buckets, but his worries melt when Riyo’s smile greets him.

Coming around the corner, he carefully avoids the security cameras, stays to their narrow blind spots, then stops when he sees Stone at the door to Riyo’s office.

To any non-clone, Stone would appear still and at attention, a stoic unaffected guard. Fox knows better.

There’s a slight tilt to Stone’s chin, a shift in his armor, a twitch in his hand at his blaster. Something has him wound so tightly, he doesn’t see Fox standing in the shadows, ready to make the trade. 

Waiting, Fox starts to open their comm, ask just what’s the matter, then he hears something.

Straining, he ups his audio receiver and frowns. 

There’s a male voice, Pantoran by the accent, coming from Riyo’s office. He’s not shouting, not really, but there’s an edge to his voice, sharp and harsh, that Fox dislikes, especially since it seems most likely directed at the only other occupant of the room. Riyo.

Grinding his teeth, Fox readies himself to march into the office and demand a more respectful tone from whoever the idiot is, but stops when Stone notices him.

Helmet moving a fraction, clearly checking the perimeter, Stone crosses to Fox, steps into the security blind spot and pops the seals on his bucket. 

“Cool your jets, Commander. It’s the Pantoran Chairman in there blowing his gasket, and your Senator warned me not to barge in. Said he likes to yell, but she’s fine.”

Taking off his own helmet, Fox scowls in the direction of the door.

Chairman Chi Cho. Pantora’s head of state. 

“I wasn’t aware he was on planet.”

“Arrived a few hours ago, unannounced.” Stone shoots the door another wary look. “Something about losing contact with an outpost. He’s going to go to the senate subcommittee on intelligence to demand they send assistance to determine if it’s a seppie incursion or something.”

Fox rolls his eyes. The idiot crossed the galaxy to demand help doing something he’s got both the proximity to and the ability to do himself. Pantora has a standing army, small, but large enough to deal with a scout mission. If the Chairman is truly concerned, he’d take immediate action. 

Even if he has no faith in his army, that’s hardly a reason to cross the galaxy to demand help. He could do that over a holoprojector, or, Fox thinks irritably, let his planetary representation plead their case.

That, though, is the real point of his being on planet. Not lack of resources or ability to properly seek help, he wanted to punctuate his doubt in the ability of his planet’s senator.

“Chairman Cho fought very hard against my appointment,” Riyo explained one evening, after Fox found her furiously reading a briefing from the man. 

It was dripping with disdain, written not to address an educated adult on a subject she was well acquainted with, but as if she were a dull witted child. Fox was insulted on her behalf. He’d been given more mentally engaging manuals to read as a cadet.

“He dislikes that I’m a woman, that I’m young, and that my father isn’t old guard.”

Fox frowned as he tossed his kama over her desk chair, began pulling off his boots. “Old guard?” 

“An old family,” she clarified. “My grandfather was a farmer and my father received a scholarship for his grades. That’s how he met my mother, attending school. Her family is very old, very powerful. They were furious when mother ran off and married father. It was quite the scandal.”

Such a scandal, in fact, that Riyo hadn’t met her mother’s family until her sister was accepted to participate in the Junior Assembly. They’d accepted both girls into the family after that, though the relationship is still strained.

“They do try,” she added, when she spotted the sour expression on Fox’s face. “I half think my mother’s brother spoke on my behalf during the appointment confirmation to help mend fences.”

“Guess I owe him a thank you, then, don’t I?” Fox nuzzled at her neck. “If he’s the reason you ended up here.”

“Mmm,” she’d hummed, let his hand knead up the inside of her thigh as he eased her back on the bed.

Shaking the memory away, Fox glares at the door, hears the Chairman’s harsh voice, physically restraining himself from marching in and giving the man an education on respect.

“She’s tougher than we give her credit for,” Stone tells him. 

“That doesn’t make it right for him to yell at her,” Fox growls, teeth grinding as Cho’s voice momentarily rises. “Women aren’t to be yelled at.”

That’s what the flash training on civilian interactions had drilled into them. They weren’t to raise their voices at the females or younglings unless trying to overcome a noise barrier.

“I don’t think civvies get our good manners taught to them.”

“Evidently.” The galaxy would be a lot more polite if they were. 

Stone holds out his bucket, takes Fox’s.

“Kama too.”

Sighing, Fox takes off his Kama and passes it to Stone.

He fastens it, adjusts it, then looks up, rubs his hand over his shaved head.

“I-uh...Jek is going to be playing Commander tonight,” he tells him, before adding, “unless you have any objections, of course.”

Fox arches an eyebrow. “I thought you were finished with the repairs?”

Stone had been working on a joint case with the Coruscant Security Force, a nightmare and a headache all in one, and had fallen through the roof of a Mirialan bakery. He’d been sneaking out during down shifts, repairing the damage himself, though he’d only admitted as such when he’d dozed off during a morning briefing.

“Why don’t they just file a grievance?” Thorn asked. “Why do you have to fix it?”

“She’s filed grievances.” He rubbed his eyes, pink with sleeplessness. “Coruscant Police broke her front window months ago and she’s still fighting to get reparations for that. Plus she’s got a couple of little nieces she looks after...I can’t-it’s not right to leave them like that.”

“She? Oh, I see.” Thorn leaned in. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Stone had gone crimson. “Hadn’t noticed.”

Whatever her appearance, Stone had dutifully snuck out and worked on her roof, though he’d gloomily announced he was nearly done a week ago. Clearly he’d enjoyed his time as a carpenter.

“I did,” Stone admits. “But, ah, Ayddya and Einnid invited me-they’ve got this school play, and they invited me.”

He holds up a piece of flimsy, childish scrawl on it with a time, date, and an address in the lower levels. The nieces school. 

“Voyanna offered to let me use some of her brother’s old clothes, so I don’t stand out.” He shrugs, let’s out a long breath. “I don’t have to go.”

Fox rolls his eyes. “I’m hardly in a position to lecture anyone about improper conduct.”

Stone snorts. “No, but at least you can claim you're doing something remotely close to your job. Where’s my excuse?”

Fox nods. There isn’t one, not even one as poorly constructed as his own. That doesn’t mean Stone shouldn't go. There’s no limit on how many brothers can chase their slice of normalcy, of happiness.

“What did Thire say? We all need a little bit of happiness?” Fox claps him on the shoulder. “Go. Be careful, but go.”

Smile twitching on his lips, Stone turns Fox’s bucket over, shoves it on his head.

“Heads up, Fox, Saché gave me a Hosnian slider for dinner. Bucket doesn’t smell so nice.”

He hurries off, following the same path Fox had taken, staying in the security blind spots, chuckling to himself.

Stifling a groan, Fox sniffs the inside of the helmet and grimaces. It’s vile. He’s almost certain Stone deliberately asked for that rank slider just to annoy him. The bastard.

He’s begun formulating a proper revenge when the Chairman’s voice rises again.

Ignoring the stench, Fox slams the bucket on and marches to the door, leans in and ups his audio feed.

“...are we clear, Senator? As the leader of our people I expect your complete cooperation.”

Fox can almost see Riyo in his mind, eyes downcast, folding in on herself as the Chairman bears down on her, demanding subservience.

She says something, inaudible even to the helmets advanced audio receptors. 

“You’ll have to speak more clearly, Senator,” Cho says, voice chillier than the Kaminoan sea.

Fox barely hears her reply. “Of course, sir.”

She says something more, too soft to pick up, and Cho huffs.

“Yes, unfortunately, that will be necessary.”

It’s quiet for a moment, Fox thinks Riyo says more, then something crashes and someone shouts.

Panic overrides his good sense and without a second thought, he hits the controls and rushes into the still opening door.

The room is darker than normal, the blast proof curtains Fox had recommended for all the senate offices are pulled shut, blocking out what little light might come in through the windows. Only the fragile wall sconces illuminate the office, aided by the ornate lamp that sits on the corner of Riyo’s desk. 

It takes half a heartbeat for Fox to take in the scene.

Cho is standing, hands behind his back, expression cold, looking down his nose at his feet.

Riyo is down, on her knees by her desk, picking up what looks to be pieces of a shattered holoprojector. Whether it was thrown or, more likely knocked off given the proximity to the desk, Fox doesn’t care. All he’s concerned with is the stricken expression on Riyo’s face before she’s realized Fox has barged in.

She looks up, her face registering recognition, and she forces a small smile.

“Commander.”

“Senator,” Fox glares at Cho without so much as tilting his bucket, “are you alright?”

Her mouth opens to answer, but Cho cuts her off.

“She’s fine.” His gaze doesn’t so much as drift to Fox, stays coolly focused on Riyo carefully cleaning up the wreckage of her holo.

“I was speaking to the Senator,” Fox grinds out, belatedly adding, “sir.”

Cho’s expression shifts, a sneer and a glare, looks ready to snap at Fox for lack of proper respect for his status, but Riyo intervenes. 

“I’m fine, Commander.” She looks back down, continues picking up the wreckage and stacking it in her lap. “My holo was too close to the edge, I’m afraid. It just caught on the Chairman’s sleeve and took a spill.”

It’s plausible enough, but given Cho’s demeanor, Fox is still unhappy with it.

Cho’s lip curls. “You may return to your post, Commander.”

Ignoring the comment, Fox cuts in front of him and drops to a knee in front of Riyo, begins helping her with the mess.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she whispers, face still down. “It really was an accident.”

Checking his HUD, Fox confirms Cho has paced across the room, is muttering unfavorable things about the ‘damn clone’, before he reaches out and tips Riyo’s chin up.

Her eyes are bright, shimmering with tears of frustration, lower lip between her teeth.

“Did he…?”

He can’t bring himself to say the words. If Cho got physical with her while Fox listened at the door like an idiot, he’ll never forgive himself. 

She shakes her head, glances around.

“No.” She reaches out, grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze. “I appreciate your chivalry, but I’m okay. It’s best to let him finish his rant, alright?”

Fox rankles, hisses, “I’m not standing out there and listening to him verbally assault you!”

Shaking her head, she sighs.

“He’s-”

Before she can mount a defense, which Fox is sure would be pitiful, there’s no excuse for the way Cho was speaking to her, someone knocks at the door.

“Senator Chuchi? Commander?”

Bolting up, Fox turns and finds Saché standing in the doorway.

She’s dressed in her SBI greys, altered to her and her sister’s style, the skirt hemmed up and the jacket unbuttoned to the top of her breasts. He’s sure they’ve both been reprimanded for it, little good it’s clearly done.

They’d been furious at their reassignment and were happy to frustrate their new bosses in whatever way they could.

Her lips quirk up and one of her eyebrows rises as she takes on the scene. 

Fox almost groans before remembering his external audio is still on.

She’s got a filthy mind, and he knows she’s probably formulating something perverse to say about what she’s seeing, Fox standing so close to Riyo as she’s down on her knees. Now is not the time for her dirty quips.

For once her being Lorrdian works in Fox’s favor. She reads the scene like a child’s story. Her expression shifts, settles into a vacant smile, as she looks toward Cho.

“Chairman Cho, how fortunate you’re here as well.”

Cho scowls. 

“Do I know you?”

Saché doesn’t falter.

“Forgive me, Chairman, I’m Saché Lindzee, SBI special agent liaison for Military Intelligence. I was just stopping by with time sensitive information.”

“SBI?” Cho eyes her altered uniform, clearly unimpressed. “Well? What is it then, girl?”

Saché glances at Fox and Riyo, now standing just behind her desk, then her empty smile widens. 

“I was sent to inform you the request for an inquiry on the outpost on Orto Plutonia has been approved.”

Cho stares at her for a moment, then huffs. 

“Impossible! I’ve not petitioned the committee yet!”

Saché shrugs. “My apologies...sir, but, you were told when you filed your request the SBI would process it and give your representative an update within one Coruscanti business day on whether help was needed, deserved, and available.”

She looks at the chrono on her wrist.

“We’re an hour early with our determination.”

“I traveled halfway across the galaxy,” Cho snaps. “And you’re telling me it was unnecessary?”

“You were given a clear timeline.”

“I was given a form response,” he spits.

She shrugs. “But a response nonetheless. It’s hardly our fault you can’t take direction.”

His eyes narrow. “What was your name? I’m going to file a complaint. This is unbecoming behavior for a senate employee.”

“By all means, do.” Saché’s smile widens as she looks at Riyo. “Senator Chuchi, please send your chairman the complaint form, and be a dear and fill in my name, I want it spelled correctly.”

Cho’s face goes violet as he stomps across the room, finger up and wagging threateningly at Saché. 

“You insolent girl! I won’t take cheek from some low level-”

Fox steps between them, glares at Cho through his visor. 

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the lady,” he tells him, voice level through the modulator, masking the disgust. 

“I’ll do as I please! You have no right to intervene in this matter!”

“Actually, sir,” Riyo softly interrupts, still standing behind her desk, looking pale and uncomfortable at having to speak, “the Coruscant Guard are obliged to protect all members of the Senate, as well as staff. That includes this lady. If he feels she’s being threatened, even by a visiting dignitary, he’s duty bound to provide protection.”

Cho looks like he’s caught a whiff of Stone’s foul Hosnian slider as he grinds his teeth. 

Finally, he huffs. 

“Very well,” he snaps. 

“You leave in the morning,” Saché informs him, over Fox’s shoulder. “You’ve got two Jedi Generals and a squad of troops prepared to depart at ten, Coruscanti standard.” 

Glaring, Cho nods then turns on his heels, clearly ready to be done with all of them. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Senator.”

Saché has the good sense to wait until his cape whips out of view before snorting. 

“Lovely man, so chilly.”

“You shouldn’t have goaded him,” Riyo tells her, grim expression fixed on her face. 

Saché shrugs. “I was tortured by the Trade Federation when I was fifteen. I’m hardly scared of a blustery old man.”

Riyo shakes her head. “Still…” 

Waving a hand in disoncern, Saché makes a face. 

“He’s the one that should be worried.”

Fox huffs. He has no doubts that’s true. 

Shrugging off Riyo’s worries, Saché knocks on Fox’s shoulder. 

“I was wondering what Sweet Stone was doing in your Kama and hat.”

Fox rolls his eyes as she steps around him, grins widely up at his visor. 

“Explains why Thire was asking Sabs and me about the security blind spots a while back, too.” She presses a hand to the empty spot in her chest where her heart should be. “Adorable.”

Fox rolls his eyes. Nothing about this is adorable. 

She gives Riyo a reassuring smile. “Listen, you and moon calf’s secret is safe with me. Keeping quiet about Senatorial liaisons is something of a speciality of mine.”

Turning, she goes to the door and opens it, smiles brightly. 

“Watch your swagger, sweetness.” She pats her own hips. “You’ve still got it without the skirt and it’s a bit of a giveaway.”

Fox doesn’t even have time to point out that he hadn’t even been moving when she walked in before she’s vanished out the door.

He shakes his head. He’ll deal with when she knew what later. 

Looking back at Riyo, Fox reaches up and pops the seals on his bucket, pulls it off and sets it on her desk as he walks around to her. 

“You’re really alright?” He asks, reaching out, his hands resting on her shoulders as he inspects her for damage more thoroughly. 

She blinks, eyes swimming and bright, but nods as she bites her lip. 

“I just…”

He cups her cheek and she leans into it as a tear slides out. 

“Come here,” he grunts, tugging her to his chest. 

She melds to him, soft cheek against the unforgiving plastoid armor, breath shuddering. Fox wraps his arms around her, one hand sliding to her waist and the other pressing between her shoulders, his nose nuzzling into her hair. 

“I just wish I could-that I didn’t freeze up whenever he’s around.”

“He yells at you,” Fox points out. Even the heartiest trooper falters when yelling gets directed entirely at them, especially when it’s unwarranted. 

“Because he knows it unnerves me.” She pulls back, swats at her face. “He’s held office since before I was born. He’s helped shape Pantora the last half century. He’s protected our planet. He’s-”

“He’s an asshole.”

She covers her mouth, muffles a laugh, then winces. 

“Fox…” she closes her eyes. “He’s a great man.”

“But not a very good one.”

He wouldn’t be berating his own senator if he were. 

Riyo sighs. 

“No, I suppose he’s not.” Taking his hand, she squeezes it. “But compared to you, few measure up.”

She rubs her eyes, takes a breath.

“It’s-He was such a hero of mine growing up. The reality is just-It’s just such a disappointment for him to be so...such a...”

“Such a bastard?” Fox offers, not intending to be particularly helpful.

She buries her face in her hands, nods.

Leaning in, Fox presses a kiss to her forehead. He’s never had a hero to fail him, so he can’t commiserate, but he can offer comfort, however little it may help.

“Let’s get you home.”

She sighs, let’s her hands drop. “I suppose that’s a good idea. I have a big day tomorrow. If the Jedi are being sent I’ll have to accompany the party as the Senate representative.”

Fox scowls. He hadn’t thought of that. 

“Well then, I’ll need to put in to be your escort.”

That’ll leave Stone in charge. He’ll have to comm him and let him know the change in plans so he doesn’t stay out in the lower levels with the Mirialan-

“Fox, I’ll have two Jedi, a squad, plus the Chairman’s personal detail.” She gives him a small smile. “I’m afraid your presence would raise a lot of questions when there’s already so much security at hand.”

Fox scowls. 

“Be that as it may-”

She presses her warm palm to his lips. 

“You can’t win this one, Commander.” She smiles softly. “It wouldn’t be wise for you to follow at my heels. We’d be too exposed.”

She’s right, unfortunately. On Coruscant they have the protection of his brothers, the cloak of everyone being too wrapped up in their own misconduct to worry much about an Outer Rim senator and a clone, and even the assistance of blind eyes turned from them. Among unknown brothers, Jedi, and her Chairman? It would only be a matter of time before they were found out. 

There’s no shell game to borrow them more time for this.

Running his tongue along his teeth, Fox bites back a huff of frustration. 

Pressing up on her toes, she kisses his cheek. 

“I’ll be okay, I promise. Most likely I’ll stay on Pantora and only provide technical assistance. The less I’m around the happier Chairman Cho will be.” She then adds. “Besides, what good would I be among troops?”

Fox glowers. She’s right, again. 

“I’d still feel better if I were there.”

“I know.” She frowns. “I would too, but some things can’t be helped.”

Evidently. 

“It’ll only be a few days. A week at most,” she points out. 

Fox nods, knowing there’s no winning this battle. 

“Let's get you home then,” he grumbles. 

As he starts to turn, she stops him with a hand to the shoulder. 

“I know how you’re feeling. I worry about you everyday. This is my duty though, and I can’t brush it off, no matter how much I may wish to.” Her smile inches up. “No matter how much more pleasant the alternative may be.”

She drums her fingers on his bicep, waits as he crumbles. 

“Your Chairman is a fool if he can’t see your brilliant political mind.”

Her eyes roll. 

“To be fair, I’ve got some rather underhanded tactics that are really only viable against you.”

“Hmmm,” Fox hums, brushes a strand of purple hair from her face. “That’s a relief.”

-

Fox mentally urges the turbo to go faster. He wants every moment he can get with Riyo before morning comes.

It chimes and the doors open to the dark Atrium, empty except for a handful of cleaning droids.

Riyo hurries along at his side, her strides smaller and quicker, her nose in her datapad, going over the briefing she’d received from the SBI right before leaving for the night.

“It’ll be Generals Kenobi and Skywalker.”

“Two high level Jedi seem a bit excessive for a simple investigation mission,” Fox says, more to himself than her.

Her nose wrinkles. 

“Yes, but it may be more a show, to give smaller planets and systems some measure of comfort that they’ll receive support in the case of an incursion.”

“I doubt the Stewjons of the galaxy will receive the same level of assistance as Pantora,” Fox points out. “A pastoral planet exporting grain and textiles isn’t as vital as one providing ship building material.”

Something he’s heard Senator Mattani complain about on more than one occasion. Her planet is being drained of food to create rations for the army, leaving barely enough for the citizens, and yet receive minimal repayment and no protection from raiders.

“I agree, but it’s the illusion that they’re relying on, not the reality.”

Judging by her expression, she’s as unhappy with that fact as Fox, but neither of them is in any position to do anything about it.

They exit the Atrium and cross the courtyard, to the small ancillary building, then through to the hangers and out to the landing pad.

It’s barren, most of the senators gone for the evening, but in the far corner, adjacent to Riyo’s bay, Fox spots a group of troopers. 

They aren’t Guard, their paint jobs are blue, not like the Senate Guard, distinctly clone patterned. 

Blinking through his records, information on planet side groups, narrowing down to Kenobi or Skywalker’s men, Fox snorts. 

It’s the five-oh-first.

It’s only a handful of men, all lounging about, buckets off, breaking about twenty regulations each, and if Fox weren’t so eager to get home and savor every last moment of the night he can, he’d march over and reprimand them all.

As he’s starting to capture images of them all, send them to their commander later, he spots a smaller figure perched on the edge of one of the deck sweeps.

Saché is laughing, leaning down and telling a story by the looks of it. She squeals in shock when one of the troopers tugs her off the sweep and spins with her on his shoulders. 

When he stops and sets her down, she sways, dizzy and unsteady, throws her head back and laughs brightly as she holds the trooper’s arm to keep herself upright. For his part, the trooper supports her, a hand at her waist, watching her with confused delight.

Fox deletes the images.

He’s not the only one that deserves some happiness, however fleeting. 

“Commander,” Fox spins at the title, finds Sabé passing, a bucket-less trooper with a ridiculously large tat of the Republic cog slant-wise on his head at her elbow. “Senator.”

“Sabé,” Riyo nods, glances at the troopers across the way. “Are you and Saché entertaining?”

Sabé stops, rolls her eyes and snorts. “Something like that. We told Ani we’d show his boys around Coruscant, at least until curfew.”

Though with her sister, making curfew would be a spice dream.

“Sleep well,” she tells them. Grinning she sways her hips. “Mind your hips, Commander.”

Despite the helmet, Fox scowls. She’ll read his sentiment.

Laughing at his indignation, she shakes her head. 

The trooper frowns, glances between them.

“Eh, did I miss something?”

Sabé takes a breath, smile softening as she links her arm with his, tugs him toward the group and their arriving transport.

“It’s nothing, just an old joke.”

The trooper nods, but Fox doubts he hears the explanation. It’s a rare thing, to have a beautiful woman touching them, smiling at them, giving them any sort of positive attention, and the man is clearly intoxicated with the proximity. She could’ve confessed to being a Separatists spy and he’d have been none the wiser. 

Fox watches them walk off, Sabé gesturing toward the sky and telling the trooper something as his gaze stays focused on her, tiny grin at the edges of his mouth. He can’t fault the man for his lapse. Pretty girls can make a man a fool. Fox should know.

“When is curfew?” Riyo asks, nose wrinkled in thought. “They can’t have long.”

“Midnight.” Fox gestures to their transport, running and waiting for them still. “And you’ve met those girls, do you think they care about making it back on time?”

She laughs, settles in beside him, let’s him take his bucket off before lacing her fingers with his.

Propping her datapad on her thigh, she begins reviewing another briefing, for a subcommittee on produce. Her lips move as she reads and her nose wrinkles up, eyes narrow in concentration.

Fox eases back, let’s his head rest on the seat back and watches her expressions, committing them to memory more accurately than any battleplan. Knowing her is more vital to his life than any strategy, he’s certain of it.

Even if all they ever get are these small moments, quiet and insignificant, no warm touches or soft smiles in the sun, only kisses in the shadows and the dark of her room, he’d take it. She’s chosen him, without a promise of a future, or a hope, or even a real name. She picked him. 

Riyo’s worth the risk. Worth decommissioning. Worth forsaking the Republic. 

He closes his eyes, imagines Stone with the Mirialan baker, Thire trying to flirt with the Zabrak female in the communications department, Thorn and that lounge singer, all the troopers on the landing pad with Sabé and Saché...they deserve happiness too. They deserve to decide someone is worth more than all the things they fear.

They all deserve more than stolen moments. 

That’s all they have for now though, so he hopes they make the most of them. He narrowly avoided losing what few moments he may get, worry over what he’d miss overshadowing what he had and would have, and he hopes none of his brothers make that same mistake without the second chance.

Opening his eyes, he smiles as she brushes a stray hair from her face, glares at the datapad, then glances at him.

A small smile forms on her lips. 

“Credit for your thoughts?”

Smiling, Fox leans forward, presses a kiss to her lips, savoring the taste of jogan fruit on her breath.

She hums, eyes closed and lips parted as he pulls back a fraction, his hand inching up her thigh.

“That's worth more than a credit.”

Fox chuckles. “You start paying and I’ll have to arrest you for solicitation.”

Her eyes open narrowly and her lips twitch.

“Then I suppose you’ll just have to keep suffering my company without compensation.”

She squeaks when he pulls her into his lap, the plastoid armor clacking loudly as he shifts under her, begins kissing along her neck, nosing her collar away and nipping along her shoulder.

He’ll gladly suffer her, for as long as he can.


End file.
